


new beginnings and second chances

by Dresupi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Not Canon Compliant, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Hermione Granger, Pining, Requited Love, Romance, Second Chances, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 11:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13247604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dresupi/pseuds/Dresupi
Summary: Hermione had always been the tactful one, who made all the right decisions, it was high time she did something spontaneous.Well.Somewhatspontaneous.  She, of course, knew first hand what true, half-cocked, spontaneity resulted in. Hence her decision to travel the muggle way from London to Romania the week after Christmas rather than floo here immediately and possibly botch up what had the potential to be the best decision of her life.





	new beginnings and second chances

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShinpeiHolic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinpeiHolic/gifts).



> Prompt: January 2 - Breakup reunion- I don’t want to ring in the New Year with anyone but you
> 
> Unbetaed and unbritpicked.

Her socks were soaked from her walk from the train station, but a quick drying spell took care of that little inconvenience. 

Romania was certainly dark.  But Hermione supposed it had to do with the time of day and not the actual country itself.  It was half past nine on New Year’s Eve. The darkness was expected.   

Hermione was well aware that magical means of travel would have gotten her here within minutes, but she felt the day and a half she’d spent trying to travel across Europe the muggle way afforded her with much more time for thinking than flooing or a portkey could have. 

So she certainly wasn’t going to complain about the length or method of her travels, since she was more set in her decision to be here than ever before.  

Viktor had been present in her thoughts since Bill and Fleur’s wedding.  Since he’d glanced over at Ron and taken a step back.  He been perhaps a bit less prominent during her excursions with Harry and Ron during what  _ should _ have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, but ever since the Dark Lord had been killed and normalcy had returned, so had her fond thoughts of Viktor.  

And when she and Ron had never really ignited the spark that had been struck the night of the Battle of Hogwarts, well… Viktor had become more and more prevalent in her thoughts.  It seemed only right that she spend the second part of her Christmas Holiday seeking him out.  

She was halfway through her true seventh year at Hogwarts, and would have to leave in a few days to go back, but she couldn’t properly say anything of these things to Viktor in a letter, and she also didn’t want to wait until the end of the school year to find him.  She’d always been the tactful one, who made all the right decisions, it was high time she did something spontaneous.  

Well.   _ Somewhat _ spontaneous.  She, of course, knew first hand what true, half-cocked, spontaneity resulted in. Hence her decision to travel the muggle way from London to Romania the week after Christmas rather than floo here immediately and possibly botch up what had the potential to be the best decision of her life.  

She hoisted her bag up higher on her shoulder and exhaled deeply, watching her breath fog up around her.  Her stomach turned flips as she glanced down at the address she’d scribbled on a bit of parchment.  She was close, if her map and judgement were to be trusted.  And they were.  She’d brushed up on a bit of conversational Romanian before leaving London.  It was much better to know some common phrases than to wander around expecting the locals to cater to her.  

She assumed she’d need to learn it to communicate with Viktor’s family anyway.  

Once she was certain she was on the correct street, she became that much more nervous.  She found Viktor’s building and pressed the buzzer to unlock the door.  She expected to have to converse with someone to prove who she was, but the door just clicked open, so she went in.  There was a wall of magic in the entryway that she assumed must weedle out those with bad intentions.  

She walked right through, however, and made her way to the lift in the center of the room.  

It was slow and rickety, giving her that much more time to get nervous about what she was about to do.  

It stopped on the third floor, as if it knew where she was going, and she found herself wondering what sort of spells they had cast on it.

She walked out into the hallway, looking down at the scrap of paper once more and raising her eyebrows as the floor spun around her, moving a hallway in front of her that she assumed was Viktor’s.  

She thought she should feel dizzy, but she didn’t as she walked down the hallway. Due to the spells, most likely.

Sure enough, his apartment number was the last one on the left and she paused before raising her fist to knock.        

* * *

A woman answered the door and Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat.  Of all the possible outcomes she’d been running over in her mind, Viktor moving on with someone else hadn’t even occurred to her.  

And she felt like a fool, because why  _ wouldn’t _ he have moved on?  He was a successful Quidditch player. So good-looking as to make her go weak in the knees on a regular basis.  And Hermione Granger didn’t  _ go _ weak in the knees.  Why would he pine after her, especially if he thought she’d already moved on with Ron?  

It was ridiculous of her not to expect this.  And the painful knot that tied itself in her belly was deserved.  Because it was selfish of her to think of Viktor as being in some kind of stasis just waiting for her to run back to him.  

She gulped and looked down at her shoes, trying to remember the Romanian for what she was trying to say.  “I… I believe I am lost?”  she mumbled in English, unable to even pull forth the words she’d practiced over and over again in her head as she’d waited for a seat on the train.  “I made a mistake…”  

“Hermininny?” the woman said slowly, her eyebrows raising.  

Hermione looked up in alarm, finding a familiar pair of dark eyes staring back at her.  They looked remarkably like Viktor’s… and he  _ had _ mentioned a sister.  

“Madalina?”  Hermione ventured, her voice tiny and cautious.  

Viktor’s sister began speaking excitedly in rapid Romanian, Hermione could only pick out a few words.   _ Surprise.  Happy.  Viktor. _

“Viktor!  Viktor!”  Madalina called, slipping her arm around Hermione’s shoulder and pulling her inside.  

Hermione’s heart leapt into her throat once more as Viktor walked into the entryway from another room in the apartment.  Tears welled as she tried to think of something to say.  She simply raised her gloved hand and waved once.  “Hi…”  

He grinned broadly.  “‘Mione!”  

* * *

****

Her explanation wasn’t nearly what she had rehearsed all the way here. It wasn’t even  _ some _ of what she’d rehearsed.  It was mostly told in spurts between tearful hugs and Viktor trying to coax her in front of the fire to warm up.  Madalina had gone to procure food from a nearby restaurant, but it was likely to give the two of them some privacy.    

“You could have flooed!”  he protested.  “I have the Floo connection, ‘Mione.”  He gestured towards the fireplace.  

“I know, I know…” she said.  “I just. I enjoyed the trip.”  

“But you could have been here yesterday,” he grumbled good-naturedly, pulling at her scarf and her coat so he could send them over to hang on the rack in the hall.  

“But I’m here now…” she offered with a small smile.  

“You are…” He returned the smile.  “What made you change your mind?”  His eyes narrowed.  “What about Weasley? I thought you and he were…”  

“We never…” she trailed off.  “It didn’t work out.  I just…  I never stopped thinking about  _ you _ , Viktor.  And after all the mess with Voldemort last year and… the Death Eaters and...” she trailed off, rubbing at one of the scars on her arm almost instinctively.  “I couldn’t start this year without you.”

His hand went down to cover hers, his thumb brushing over the scarred skin and frowning as he pushed the sleeve up further.

She’d discuss what happened during her year fighting Death Eaters with him.  Just not tonight.  Tonight was for happiness.  Tonight was for reunion.  Tonight was for happy tears and new beginnings.  Not for the past.  

She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly.  “I want… if you still want to, that is… I want to try again?  I’m almost done with school now… it won’t be so very difficult to be together…”  

“ _ If _ I still want to?” he asked.  “Of course I want to.  I never stopped wanting you, I thought you had found someone more suited.”  

“There’s no one more suited to me than you.” 

He leaned forward,his fingers sliding through her hair to push it back out of her face.  “I know it is not midnight yet, but may I kiss you, all the same?”  

“I think it’s fine, so long as you keep kissing me past midnight,” Hermione teased. 

“I plan to keep kissing you for the rest of our lives, so midnight will not be a problem,” he replied, grinning as he closed the distance between them.  

Their lips touched in a burst of heat and Hermione parted hers, tilting her head to give him better access. His hand slipped behind her head and he broke off the kiss, panting softly.  

She gave him a puzzled look and he glanced over his shoulder at the front door, where a slightly muffled fumbling could be heard.  “My sister,” he explained, standing up and offering his hand.  “Do you mind going to my bedroom?”  

She grinned and accepted it, standing up and squeezing his hand.  “I don't mind at all.  Lead the way.”  

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me some loveys in the comments?


End file.
